


Amy don't you go, I want you around.

by oH_cRaMiTY_iTs_aMiTY



Category: Booksmart (2019)
Genre: Based on a Green Day song, Booksmart - Freeform, Canon Gay Character, Drug Use, F/F, Falling In Love, Gay, Green Day References, High School, Hope/Amy - Freeform, Love, Recreational Drug Use, Secret love, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26034850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oH_cRaMiTY_iTs_aMiTY/pseuds/oH_cRaMiTY_iTs_aMiTY
Summary: An Eagles song is blaring through the speakers of Hope’s beat-to-hell Toyota, and Amy can’t quite tell the title, but she figures it’s a radio single from an oldie’s station as her car pulls up beside her.She’s sat outside of Nick’s aunts house, staring at the pavement, and trying to figure out how to get home. Molly’s gone off onto one of her tangents regarding getting together with Nick while blatantly refusing to let her go home, so Amy’s stuck here. She refused to even go talk to Ryan, instead, coming out here to just wait.She doesn’t know what she was waiting for exactly, but apparently Hope seemed to show up at the right time.“Hey,” Hope’s voice comes out of the window, “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be inside.”“Yeah, well,” Amy frowns, “I don’t want to be inside.”Hope kills the ignition, leaving her foot on the brake, the last few chords of the song playing before she quickly unlatches her seatbelt and opens her door. She comes to take a seat beside Amy’s frame as she sits on the curb, reaching over to take hold of her left hand as it rests on her knee.
Relationships: Amy/Hope (Booksmart)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	Amy don't you go, I want you around.

**Author's Note:**

> _Oh shit, is anyone even still alive in this fandom anymore? it's been like... *checks watch* twelve days since anyone posted anything... let me just leave this here for you guys to help break the silence... go easy, i know it sucks and is choppy._
> 
> _(Title comes from the song "Amy" by Green Day... I was waiting for someone to do this, but I see that no one has, and more recently I had forgotten about this song up until a few days ago. (what a shame that is.) I've been dying to try and tell anyone about it in this community. If you would be kind enough, I would suggest perhaps try to listen to it, it's not grungy rock, it's slow and calm, and I think of it personally as from Hope's perspective... or if you just cannot stand the idea of hearing Billie Joe Armstrong's voice, look up the lyrics... This song for me has personally always been one of my personal favorites and I wish people would talk about it more, I believe it could be constructed as about suicide, but I've never personally seen it like that. The song doesn't necessarily form into the plot much, but it's still there and I might make a songfic to it later if you all want me to.)_  
> 

**_(SEPTEMBER)_ **

Amy takes a seat at the yellow picnic table, letting the majority of students swirl and crowd around other adjacent tables. She feels herself momentarily feel out of place in the crowded outdoor seating area. Effortlessly experiencing a certain claustrophobic feeling welling in the brink of her own chest. She almost debates leaving the area, looking around cautiously before tugging a tattered book from her bag and flipping it open to a random page.

It was just something to preoccupy her mind with, forget the crowd, forget that Molly wasn’t there to talk to her.

_Damn dentists._

She tries her hardest to try to focus on the words that line the pages, skimming each one, but it felt strange and foreign, like it wasn’t clicking into place, the feeling in her chest seemed to be the only thing her mind could possibly think about. With all the effort Amy gave to try to concentrate, she feels herself momentarily be consumed by the thoughts of what if.

_What if what?_

_What if they were staring at her?_

_What if she was being talked about?_

Completely irrational thoughts since no one dared to even speak to her if Molly wasn’t there.

Only, Molly wasn’t around to back her up, and she feels so vulnerable and exposed without her, like a piece of her was missing because she wasn’t around.

Amy knows it’s not the end of the world, its just for one day, and it’s not like Molly’s actually gone.

She just gets a twang of anxiety when it came to moments like these. Being on her own. It’s not like she couldn’t handle this, she could, but it just really felt lonely without someone like Molly to help keep her mind off of the swirling voices from behind her shoulders.

It seemed like with every breath she took she felt more and more nervous to look up. Fearful of eyes potentially looking at her, and instead just wanting to keep her head down and stare blankly at this page until the bell announcing lunch was finally over rang.

She hears shoes scrape against the cement, beside her table, and she figures it’s meant to be someone passing past her, only the shoes stop suddenly, and Amy can feel eyes stare at her hunched over frame.

_“Why don’t you talk much?”_

It’s not followed by her name, but Amy figures it’s directed at her. Slowly looking up to come into contact with Hope’s eyes. Someone she hadn’t thought would ever stop and voluntarily speak to her, even if it was just a basic question, Amy’s still taken aback.

She looks serious, almost like she had dropped all signs of her normal demeanor to something that almost hinted at concern. Only it seemed foolish and abnormal to think about, because those two exact things did not scream any inch of Hope.

Hope, the girl who no one knows anything about.

Hope, the bitch who puts everyone down for her own personal gain.

Molly says that she had heard from Gigi that she had issues, family ones at that, but Amy never spoke to her directly through their whole upbringing, Hope had always reverted back into the popular kids, somehow.

Neither Molly nor her really understood the requirements for that sort of thing, but Amy knows Hope enough to think that she’s here to make fun of her for something like she would usually does. She figures it’s because Molly’s gone, and it gives her some sort of free reign to unleash any sort of mentally degrading insults she ever so desired.

Amy thinks at first if she just tries to ignore Hope, she’d go away, immediately darting her face back to the page in front of her, starting at the beginning of a sentence and struggling to not be apart of whatever torment Hope wanted to let loose on her.

“Hey,” Hope’s voice comes out again, only this time softer, Amy feels the bench of the picnic table shift, almost like she had taken a seat near her. It makes her freak out at the action, feeling Hope’s eyes potentially burn holes into her as she looks down at her own book, blatantly trying her hardest to act like she was reading, skimming the same page for a good three minutes before Hope moves closer, “I’m talking to you Amy.”

Amy doesn’t look up, she’s nervous to, momentarily trying to calm all of her nerves and trying to find the right words to say as her heart thrums loudly in her ears, she licks her lips before letting out a shaky “What?”

It’s not common for people to normally speak to her.

“I asked you a question,” Hope states, she doesn’t sound upset or angry. It’s something that scares Amy, because this was so unlike any other side of Hope she had ever spoken to. She feels at any moment Hope will start laughing at her, and call her some sort of synonym of a ‘ _freak_.’

“We-Well,” Amy stammers, “I didn’t quite he-hear it.”

“Look at me,” Hope firmly jabs, “I don’t want to be talking to your hair.”

With an audible swallow and a sharp intake of breath, Amy cranes her neck shyly up to meet the taller girl’s eyes, they scream of something completely familiar, yet seemingly mysterious all at once. Amy’s struggling not to just revert back to her page, trying to force herself to snap out of her sudden bout of anxiousness without Molly, and completely embrace this strange company.

“Okay,” Amy says slowly, almost cautious to really say anything.

“I asked why you never spoke at all,” Hope says, her lips pursing together, almost like she was concentrating on something Amy wasn’t quite sure of, “Why does Molly get all of the spotlight?”

“Because—” Amy trails off, it’s a question she’s never been asked really. It takes her a minute to really think about it, before shaking her head and frowning in annoyance, “Why do you care?”

“Because I’m just wondering,” Hope states flatly, “You never say anything for yourself, and when you do, your always never heard.”

“What makes this important for you?” Amy suspects bluntly.

Hope laughs out softly, shaking her head in what Amy could only call amusement, it’s something that takes Amy by surprise at its own conscious effort of Hope showing some form of emotions that weren’t laced with venom or anger in some way. A sight that Amy hasn’t seen for years, for Amy’s upbringing, she rarely had ever seen Hope act so casual or strange like this. She moves to shift across the table to pull the book from her hands to glance at the cover.

“Because I’m truly interested.”

“Well,” Amy bites the inside of her cheek, opening her mouth speak hesitantly, “It’s not like I can’t talk—"

“You just choose not to,” Hope finishes her thought with an amused smile, earning a small impressed nod from Amy, “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I like what you say,” Hope states, darting her eyes to look at Amy’s sudden flushed cheeks, “You should speak more often.”

“Your kidding me,” Amy lets out sarcastically, almost like a reflex, she swears it’s subconscious, but the reaction from Hope is priceless.

“No, not at all,” she shakes her head, “I love it when you have something to say.”

“I didn’t think anyone did.”

“Well I do,” Hope states, “And if anything, I think what you say resonates with me more because of the fact that you don’t speak all that much out of turn.”

“Your lying right now,” Amy frowns, “I can just tell, there’s no way you of all people would say that.”

“I did,” Hope shakes her head, “I swear I’m being serious here.”

* * *

****

**_(OCTOBER)_ **

“You should give me your number,” Hope says, tapping the girl on the shoulder as she cranes her neck around to face her with a curious expression.

They’re seated in their shared AP Calculus class, studying something that even Amy can’t quite seem to understand.

Math hasn’t ever been her forte.

She swears there’s something about lesbians and math in general that do not mix well together, hell, she doesn’t even understand how anyone could understand half of the jargon that’s said, but she still scrawls the notes down in her spiral notebook, keeping up with the diagrams drawn on the dry erase board as the teacher continues to drone on about his lecture on integrals.

“Now?” Amy looks up to the board before looking back to her notebook, a puzzled expression forming on her lips as she continues to struggle to keep up with the flow of class notes.

“Not now,” Hope laughs out softly, “I mean at the end of this period, I’ll call you sometime.”

“Why?” Amy asks, “It’s not like you and I have anything in common.”

“What’s your favorite song?” Hope questions, and Amy shrugs.

“I don’t really listen to music much, I’m not sure.”

“Seriously?” Hope quips with an exasperated breath, “Nothing?”

“Not nothing,” Amy counters, “I’m not a sociopath, I listen to _some_ music.”

“Well, what do you listen to then?”

“Your going to laugh at me, I can already feel it,” Amy murmurs, “Aren’t you paying attention?”

“Yeah,” Hope acknowledge from behind her, “I mean I’ll say mine if you say yours, an eye for an eye, or whatever they say.”

“Alright fine,” Amy hums out, “Have you ever heard of _The 1975_?”

“Who?” Hope raises a brow, and Amy momentarily recoils forward in shock.

“You did _not_ just criticize one of the greatest European bands to ever exist.”

“Come and school me about that then Antsler, we know your good at that type of thing,” Hope laughs with a sly smile.

“I might just do that then,” Amy murmurs to herself, tearing off an edge off of a separate piece of lined paper further in her notebook, “Who do you like anyway?”

“It’s a combination of things really,” Hope hums, “Mainly Taylor Swift.”

“She’s still alive?” Amy questions.

“Okay,” Hope states, clearly offended with the question, “You did _not_ just say that right now, we are about to fucking go right here and now if you really meant that Antsler.”

The bell rings a few minutes later and Amy finds herself hastily passing the slip of paper to the corner of Hope’s desk before running out of the room in favor of her poetry class.

* * *

**_(JANUARY)_ **

“I don’t understand why you don’t just go over there and talk to Ryan,” Molly states, they’re sitting together at lunch, on the overly talked about topic of Amy’s hopeless ‘crush.’

_Well._

_It’s complicated._

Ryan, a popular skater girl was originally the object of Amy’s affection, though now it seemed that she just flatly didn’t really take an interest in Ryan anymore. If that was at all possible, at first it was some stupid crush, and since Molly’s absences, Hope had oddly slipped into place.

Not directly, Hope still avoided her when Molly was around, shooting side glances and finding folded notes tucked through the vents in her locker

It wasn’t a big deal, Hope was just really nice, and Amy might have found herself sucked into that strange fascination of what if they were together.

Originally, Amy would’ve been _so_ opposed to that.

Feeling that Hope being like that with her wouldn’t exactly sit well with Molly. She’s not sure if she could ever bring herself to even get to that place with Hope either, she wants to, but it’s all sort of a waiting game.

Until then, Amy’s struggling to play along with her old charade of ‘will she, won’t she?’ with Ryan, even if she was thinking of Hope the whole time.

It wasn’t something Amy found herself alarmed to, it just so happened that Hope wasn’t how she was when she was around Molly.

Of course there was the occasional argument between Molly and her, and frankly if Amy was blunt about it, she was thrilled deep down to hear Hope’s voice, but it still kind of hurt to have her talking shit to Molly’s face.

“Because,” Amy states, “I don’t think it’s the right time, and like—”

“Come on,” Molly nudges her shoulder, “What do you have to lose? What’s one little convo to the major scissoring your going to do later.”

“Again,” Amy frowns, “We’ve like, covered this so many fucking times Molly.”

“And again I tell you,” Molly leans forward with a large smile.

“Don’t—”

Molly cuts her off, “Knock it until you tried it.”

“And I’m not knocking it,” Amy groans, “I’m saying that scissoring is not actually a thing.”

“Have you tried it?” Molly raises an unsure brow, almost like she’s trying to see straight through Amy’s full confident composure, struggling not to break in terms of thinking about Hope.

Not regarding the scissoring thing, but the part where she just couldn’t keep her mind off of her.

“Fuck no,” Amy sputters, “Fuck, Jesus Molly. What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

“I mean,” Molly laughs amusedly, poking Amy’s shoulder with her index finger, “It’s an honest question.”

“Even if I had, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Oh yes you would.”

“Fuck no, I wouldn’t,” Amy calls back, “I have boundaries.”

“Too late,” Molly says, “Those died when I got my UTI.”

“Please for the love of—”

Molly cuts her off, “I’m telling you, do not ever try to—"

Amy swears that God exists at that sudden moment however, the bell signaling lunch was finally over cuts Molly off by ringing from inside the school. Amy watches as everyone steadily gets up to stream back into the school through the courtyard entrance, seemingly causing the entrance into the school to become instantly congested with students.

“ _Please_ ,” Amy says after a moment, “Never talk about that,” Amy waves her hand to her best friend, “Ever. Again. I beg of you.”

“Why not?” Molly frowns, “It was such a learning experience for me.”

“Yeah, you took the worst possible advice from YouTube, and from all people, the worst person to take advice from, Tana Mongeau,” Amy deadpans, “Very interesting learning experience to know if you would have the same sexual experience she had with a goddamn toothbrush.”

“It was a valid statement.”

“How?” Amy quips, “Why the fuck would you even try that?”

“Because I’m a young independent woman Ames,” Molly leans forward with an amused smile, “And I have urges to try new things.”

“I just don’t understand why you would even try _that,_ ” Amy ponders, “Like of all things Molly.”

“You can’t say much considering Lin—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Amy hisses, “Dude, don’t fucking say her name.”

“You just wish it was Ryan,” Molly smirks, and Amy frowns with a huff.

_‘I wish it was Hope actually.’_

_What?_

* * *

**_(FEBRUARY)_ **

“So about your music taste,” Hope plops her stuff down beside Amy at a picnic table, “I listened to Lana what’s her face.”

“Come on, don’t do Lana Del Rey dirty like that,” Amy scrunches up her nose in annoyance, “she is an actual legend and I will fucking bury you if you insult her.”

“You literally asked me two months ago if Taylor Swift was still alive, your one to talk.”

“It was a valid question!”

“Yeah sure,” Hope shakes her head, “It’s questions like that, that destroys your fragile friendship with me Antsler.”

“Friendship?” Amy raises a brow in curiosity, “You think we’re friends?”

“Not publicly,” Hope quips, looking around, “I still have a reputation here.”

“But literally everyone but Molly knows that your sitting with me,” Amy frowns, “If your so badass I dare you to kiss me right here and now.”

“Badass?” Hope laughs out, turning away from the girl in amusement before processing the second half of the question, Hope swears she practically gives herself whiplash, “What?”

“Uh,” Amy murmurs out freely, “Forget that, sorry.”

“No, no,” Hope scoffs out amusedly, “Totally, I mean I just didn’t think you’d be all that into me anyway.”

“Huh?”

“I thought you were into Ryan, and that sort of thing.”

“Oh,” Amy mumbles out before breaking out into a laugh, “Yeah, Ryan…”

“Ryan,” Hope echoes, matching Amy’s somber expression.

“I just feel like you’d be better than some idea, you know?” She breaks out, shrugging her shoulders and toying with a fraying string on her sleeve.

“I don’t want to be a second choice,” Hope frowns, “If that’s what your insinuating here.”

“No,” Amy shakes her head, looking up quickly to the taller girl, “I just really think that if I should ever pursue anything, it’d be some girl like you, not some skater girl who barely knows I exist.”

“Wow. Way to roast yourself kid,” Hope laughs, mumbling beneath her breath Amy faintly catches as, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“You get the point,” Amy waves her hand, dismissing the topic, “I think we’d be good, that’s all I’m saying.”

Hope gives a small smile and nods, “Yeah, me too.”

“So what do you have to recommend to me today?” Amy furrows her brow, “I finally listened to Lorde and I hate myself for not allowing myself the pleasure in embarking in the magical journey that is _Pure Heroine_.”

“It still sickens me that I’ve known you for so many years and yet you still never heard that album,” Hope sighs, “Even after you came to school with a Lorde tour shirt—”

“It was some shit my cousin bought me,” Amy cuts her off, “It’s not like it meant anything.”

“But your lying to everyone if you’re wearing that around, it’s the same way with any artist, you should listen to their music before going around repping their merch,” Hope states, “And you know that’s not like—” Hope pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to gage a proper sentence, “it’s not respectful for the fanbase, even if you do like only know one song.”

“Well,” Amy frowns, “Is it wrong if I wear that shirt now?”

“I mean,” Hope shrugs, “Do you like Lorde?”

“What kind of fucking question is that?” Amy gawks, “Yes you idiot.”

“Good,” Hope rolls her eyes, “Thank god, I couldn’t be friends with a fucking poser.”

“Poser or not,” Amy frowns, “Why does that even matter?”

“Because,” Hope tries, “You can’t be a fan of Lorde and only listen and know of _Royals_. Like that isn’t even a fan at that point, it’s just you liking a single song.”

“Bro,” Amy groans out, “ _Royals_ is so overrated.”

“That was just an example, but I can agree with that. Now,” Hope clears her throat, “Today I shall bless your ears with the magic that is Phoebe Bridgers.”

“Oh,” Amy says, “I know her, she did a collaboration with The 1975.”

“Really?” Hope raises a brow, “I haven’t heard it.”

“Oh yeah,” Amy nods, “It’s so good, hold on,” Amy states, “I’ll bring it up.”

“It’s cool, I’ll just bring it up on my phone, what’s it called?”

“ _Jesus Christ 2005, God Bless America_.”

“Long title,” Hope deadpans with a frown.

“I know,” Amy shrugs, “But I like it.”

“Well I mean,” Hope shrugs, “If you like it, then I’m sure it’s good.”

* * *

**_(MARCH)_ **

**[-Mom-]**

_‘can you meet me in the bathroom by the science hallway?’_

_‘I need to tell you something.’_

_‘what’s up?’_

_‘is everything okay?’_

_‘yeah’_

_‘just come meet me here, I want to tell you something.’_

* * *

Amy looks up from her phone that’s hidden beneath her desk to quickly lock it and raise her hand.

“Yes Amy?” the teacher asks, and Amy swallows quickly before opening her mouth to speak.

“May I please go use the restroom?”

“Certainly,” the woman nods, and it’s all that Amy needs to get up, feeling herself zip out of the room without another word, she swears it must be faster than the speed of light, at least according to her own terms with how it feels.

_She’s never ran this quick down the hallway._

Hell, _any_ hallway for that matter, she reaches the science wing downstairs from her classroom and pushes the genderless restroom’s door open, finding Hope slouched up against the wall, her left leg dangling off of the edge of the disgusting shade of blue countertop that houses simultaneous sinks in a row, sitting with the back of her head against the wall.

A blunt is pinched between her thumb and first finger, inhaling deeply until she chokes on the lack of oxygen, letting out a thick cough into her arm as she pulls the stick from her mouth firstly. The second hand marijuana smoke hits Amy beyond any other sight of the restroom, it wasn’t uncommon for Hope to skip class to get high, she’s told Amy multiple times about it.

Sophomore year Molly threatened to go to the office and tell the principle for finding her in her shitty Toyota doing the same thing, but Amy rarely ever finds herself in the same room as her when it’s actually happening.

Amy surveys the sight as Hope lets out a cloud of smoke from her lips, and clears her throat a few times simultaneously before swallowing firstly, letting the blunt come to rest between her lips again. Noticing Amy’s presence after she pulls another drag from the drug before coughing it back out seconds later again, she clears her throat and licks her lips, letting the tightness envelop the back of her mouth as she smiles, something that screams some sort of pride in seeing her. It sends something shooting down Amy’s chest into her gut, it’s this thick tingly feeling that courses down to her toes, almost like excitement in feeling Hope’s eyes on her, “What’s up, you?”

“I could say the same for you,” Amy gives a strangely wide smile, cautiously stepping forward to find Hope’s somber expression return as soon as she looks back at the opposite wall, “What’s going on?”

“Not much, just wanted to see you, that’s all,” Hope murmurs thickly, feeling the THC cloud her brain as a certain sense of calmness envelopes her own senses.

“Is that really why you wanted me to get out of class?”

Hope looks to Amy before shrugging, “I mean, I wanted to see you, sue me.”

“Well then,” Amy gives a small smile, “I guess we’re going to court then.”

“Oh,” Hope gives a sudden laugh after expelling another cough into her arm, “Is that so?”

“So,” Amy dares.

“No-uh,” Hope stammers, clearing her throat and scratching the back of her neck, “I wanted to uh, take you up on that offer of kissing you actually.”

“Now?”

“It doesn’t have to be now,” Hope shakes her head, “I just figured you must’ve forgotten about it.”

“I was trying to.”

“Don’t,” Hope purses her lips, “I want to kiss you.”

“Not when your—” Amy trails off, motioning to the blunt in Hope’s hand, “Smoking actually, I don’t think I really should be in here.”

“Scared of getting caught?” Hope raises a brow in amusement, bringing the stick back between her lips again, before inhaling slowly, and pulling it away again.

“No, that’s not it,” Amy shakes her head, “I just figured that I don’t want my parents to think I was doing drugs.”

Hope frowns, letting the mist escape past her lips after a minute, “It’s not meth, it’s pot, there’s so much of a difference between a lot of drugs.”

“I know, I know,” Amy confirms quickly, “My parents are just sort of old fashioned.”

“Religious people,” Hope groans out softly, clearing her throat and taking a deep breath, “Religious people think this,” she hold up her wrist, motioning her other hand to the lit blunt hanging from her fingers before dropping it back against her right knee, “Is some kind of devil worshipper magnet or some shit.”

“Religion is important,” Amy states matter-in-factly, shaking her head in annoyance as Hope swallows audibly, “I mean, I find it important.”

“Explain what there is to believe in, but some sort of folklore like mystery and hallucinatory old men.”

“More than you think,” Amy frowns, “What if there’s a future?”

“What if there isn’t?” Hope counters, “What if you’re just believing in a bunch of lies?”

“I’m not losing anything by believing in God.”

“Your losing my interest in this conversation,” Hope replies dully, “You’re such a snoozefest, I swear to fucking God.”

“You don’t believe in God,” Amy answers and Hope gives a glare at the girl.

“Are you going to ever kiss me?” Hope breathes out, bringing her right hand back up to her mouth, leaving the burning stick inches from her lips and clearing her throat, and attempting to reassure any doubts, “It shouldn’t matter what anyone thinks about you, it’s just two people feeling something.”

“But it sticks to you, doesn’t it?” Amy questions, “T-The smoke, I mean."

“Yeah,” Hope shrugs lightly, “But that shouldn’t matter, you’re not smoking it, it’s me,” Hope’s lips form around the blunt again, taking another drag from it before pulling it away and tilting her head back against the wall.

“Right,” Amy murmurs softly, mentally debating on what Molly would think of this, she feels so rebellious at this point, she swears by all means that it’s the second hand smoke that makes her step forward calmly. There was so other way she would’ve done it otherwise, watching as Hope’s head quickly snaps to her, their eyes meeting, and her forehead scrunching up in some kind of concentrative stare, potentially curious on what Amy’s intention was as she nears the edge of the counter, standing up on her toes and using said edge to try to raise herself closer to Hope, catching her off guard, and making her mouth open in shock, struggling with herself internally to form something close to a coherent sentence.

“What’s—” Hope’s sudden exhale through her mouth comes as a cloud of smoke hitting Amy’s face, and almost like a reflex she breathes in deeply, simultaneously causing her to turn away from Hope’s face, coughing a few times sporadically, the action makes Hope let out a deep laugh in confusion, “What’s going on?”

“I was-uh,” Amy mutters, catching her composure, “I was going to-uh—"

“Kiss me?” Hope cants a brow, a knowing smile brushing her lips as the blunt dangles from her fingers, her thumb toying with the end of it as she stares confidently at Amy, clearing her throat before forming an excessive smirk as she nods shyly. “Well,” Hope shrugs, “Don’t be meek, just fucking do it.”

Amy swallows, and lets out a nervous chuckle at Hope’s words, swallowing and reaches up blindly, gripping at the first thing she grabs and tugging it towards her firmly for stability, Hope lets out a noise that sounds between a laugh and a sharp intake of breath as her face comes to stare closer into Amy’s eyes, feeling Amy’s blunt nails through the fabric of her faded t-shirt as she holds onto the collar.

And it’s not even a second that Hope’s left hand reaches up to push the fallen strands of hair away from Amy’s face and behind her ear, chasing the feeling of some sort of rushed euphoria as it forms itself over the tip of her tongue and warms her skin with every intake of breath of being this close to Amy’s face, feeling breath skim across her lips just somehow increased the way her throat seemed to tighten, at a loss for words as Amy’s lips brush over her own.

It feels like a rush of blood to her brain as her eyes subconsciously lid themselves shut, focusing on the feelings that seem to push herself to let her left arm circle the back of Amy’s neck blindly.

* * *

**_(APRIL)_ **

****

Amy wakes up to the static buzzing sound of her phone vibrating on the side of her desk below her bunk, it’s still dark outside according to the window beside that desk. At first she thinks it’s a figment of her imagination, and every part of her consciousness wants to ignore the sound and roll over to fall back asleep. Her room is still and quite apart from her steady breath and the God awful noise from below her.

It stops for a few minutes, and Amy’s on the verge of falling back asleep before it starts doing the same thing again, this time it startles her awake and with an annoyed grumble she climbs down the ladder and yanks the charging cable from the port of her phone, not bothering to check the caller ID before hastily accepting the call and pressing it to her right ear.

She doesn’t speak at first, shuffling her bare feet forward to peer out the side of her curtain that gave a slim view outside of her house, and jadedly gazing out to the flickering streetlamp that sat on the side of her street before blinking the fogginess from her irises, rubbing the sleep from the corners of her eyes, Amy clears her throat abruptly.

_“Are you still there?”_

It’s whispered, almost hushed, like someone might’ve been able to hear them if the voice had spoken any louder. For good reason too, it wasn’t exactly the ideal time to be calling someone like this.

“What’s going on?” Amy murmurs, “We talked about you calling me _this_ late—”

_“I know, I know,”_ Hope chastises, _“You know how I can’t sleep sometimes.”_

“So you interrupt people who _are_ sleeping just to get your kicks.”

_“I mean, hearing your voice helps calm me Amy.”_

“Right,” Amy fumbles, “What’s going on Hope?”

_“Just trying to fall asleep.”_

Amy cradles her phone to her shoulder and finds the first few rungs of the wooden ladder, pulling herself back into the top bunk and running a hand through her bangs as she yawns, “I was having a good dream too.”

_“Really?”_

“Totally,” Amy confirms, “You were in it.”

_“Can you tell me about it?”_

“Well,” Amy hums softly, “You lent me your jacket, and that’s all I can really remember.”

_“Which one?”_

“The yellow one,” Amy states, “The one with the fringes.”

_“I thought you said you hated it,”_ Hope laughs softly.

“Because you wear it at times when I can never talk to you.”

_“Right.”_

“Right,” Amy echoes.

_“So tell me more about this dream,”_ Hope says after a minute, _“Since you brought it up.”_

“I told you,” Amy whispers amusedly, “I can’t remember much more than that.”

_“You can’t remember, or you don’t want to tell me?”_

“Uh,” Amy blinks a few times, “Both?”

_“We had sex, didn’t we?”_ Hope asks bluntly.

Amy’s voice falters at the sudden interference, and she immediately feels her cheek grow pink, “N-No!”

_“We so did,”_ Hope intrudes with a deep chuckle, _“Oh my God, you’re such a weirdo.”_

“I’m not a weirdo, your just being mean.”

Amy hears the light yawn echo through her right ear, and she relaxes slightly into her pillow. Feeling herself drift off slightly to hear Hope’s voice murmur something almost incoherent, it takes everything for Amy to snap out of the sudden feeling of something tugging her consciousness to sleep, finding Hope’s voice repeating the phrase again upon her fumbling for a soft, “What?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” She hums wearily.

There’s only the sound of Hope’s breathing that follows after Amy’s voice trails off subtly, earning Amy’s eyes to slowly close, focusing on how the girl’s voice evens out immensely, and she finds herself wrapped in the unmistakable sound of Hope sighing subconsciously. Amy feels herself yawn into her hand, swallowing and letting the phone lay beside her, still on call and letting herself feel at ease with knowing that Hope was only inches from her metaphorically. Sleep comes to her again in a thick blanket of warmth, letting It overtake her and drown herself in a sense of comfort.

* * *

****

**_(MAY)_ **

“We are totally going to Nick’s party tonight!”

“But Molly,” Amy slumps into her driver’s seat, staring through the windshield as Molly continues to yammer on about needing to go to the last day of school’s hottest party.

It wasn’t like that anyway, Amy just had no interest in that sort of thing, she loved Molly, but parties were never something she really wanted to exactly experience, not that she really cared when Molly forced her to go talk to Ryan, gaining the invite, it was just not something she exactly wanted to go and find.

She and Hope had been dating in secret for months anyway, and any attempt to go talk to Ryan only filed her disposition of displeasure upon knowing that she couldn’t tell anyone, Molly especially, it destroyed herself mentally. They couldn’t really go anywhere near the school, always having to lie to everyone about having projects together when Molly wasn’t around them.

It’d consisted with 9 PM - 2 AM intervals of being able to actually see each other. Hope would sneak through her small bedroom window with a portable record player and whatever she had gotten from the vintage record store downtown, and Amy would always fall asleep around eleven because of her internal clock.

She would always wake up to find a single sticky note stuck on the edge of her desk whenever she woke up to her alarm the next morning.

One of them, Amy still had tucked inside of her phone case, a heavily detailed human heart, with blue and red ink sketched onto a neon pink sticky note, there was a caption that headed the small paper reading the phrase over every now and again makes her almost melt every time.

_“You have my heart.”_

On the days Molly wouldn’t be at school, due to presidential meetings or collage tour trips, Hope would talk to her.

Even when it amounted to her best friend being around, she’d still have the late night phone calls asking about how she was, and whenever there was an argument between Molly and her, Hope still somehow managed to send her that strange heart eye emoji that she didn’t know anyone would really use. She guesses that it’s a good scenario, the whole part where they’d always try to find ways to talk to each other without Molly knowing.

It was something, that was for sure.

It felt like she was hiding a part of herself though, not being able to tell anyone about their relationship. Like the whole coming out thing from sophomore year repeating itself over again.

Hope would ask her for the poems she would write during her poetry class, and Amy would recite them ever now and again between certain times where Hope had managed to crawl through her bedroom window. Hope would structure her time into having Thursdays free from her part time job at a small grocery store by Lido’s Pizza, and yet Amy, well…

Amy still was surprised to think that Hope wasn’t just lying to her, every time, Hope would always manage to subtly bring her small record player over and plug it into a pair of portable speakers on Amy’s desk, and they’d listen to albums together, or through Amy’s Bluetooth speaker from her phone.

It was mainly of Taylor Swift since that was the majority of Hope’s library.

Amy never complained much anyway, she trusted Hope’s taste anyway.

Yeah, that surprised Amy herself the majority of the time too, she never really expected to admit those words, even as a thought, because Hope was the last person she’d ever expect to date.

Well, they didn’t really go out, they mostly just hung out in her room on Thursdays and on Hope’s other days off.

And maybe well, they’d make out a little bit too.

Nothing wrong with that anyway, it wasn’t full on intercourse, or whatever your supposed to call it, it was just casual, and well, Amy still smelled Hope in the collar of her shirt long after she had left each Thursday.

Amy insisted on her going back home, it was about school.

When was it not?

And well, Ryan wasn’t anything to concern herself with in terms to wanting to date anyone else really, she had Hope’s company, and that was nice for once. It felt like after all these years that Hope and her had spent not speaking were some form of curse, because Amy hadn’t known how interesting Hope’s life was up until the start of senior year.

For starters, her father worked at his own lawyer firm and occasionally she flies to New York every now and again with him for weekends, her mother, an anesthesiologist at a Lutheran hospital across town.

Hope says that’s how she was able to sneak out a lot, because of her parent’s busy schedules and the fact that they never took much interest in her whereabouts as long as she was getting good grades and staying safe.

“Come on Ames,” Molly nudges her shoulder, snapping her out of her tangent, “It’s out _last_ day, and your leaving for Africa tomorrow.”

“It’s not that big of deal Molls,” Amy groans, “I don’t understand why we can’t just hang out and watch some documentary.”

“Those documentaries are going to be there later, Nick’s party is going to only be around for tonight Ames,” Molly states, “Which means we need to act on this once in a life time opportunity.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Molly shakes her head, “We are _so_ going.”

* * *

Amy feels her phone vibrate in her pocket as she pulls up to her house, listening to Molly’s dramatic speech about how they’re _really_ going to go to Nick’s, planning out some game plan on how they were going to dress and the route to get there, and about how Amy _still_ wasn’t allowed to back out.

Throwing her car in park, she sees Molly quickly dart out of the passenger seat of her Volvo, storming up her porch step and pushing the front door open. It makes Amy breathe out a steady stream of air in relief, letting her right hand find the device from her pocket and pulls it out to her eyes.

Her decoy “Mom” contact lighting up with two unread messages that almost makes Amy’s heart leap into the back of her throat.

**[-Mom-]**

_hey, are you going to nick’s party tonight? - [3:24 PM]  
i want to see you before you leave tomorrow for an entire year. - {3:25 PM}_

_[3:29 PM] - yeah, molly’s insistent on us going because ryan apparently invited us_

_guess she does have her perks after all. – [3:33 PM]_

_[3:34 PM] - ?_

_[3:35 PM] - wdym_

_the part where davidson thinks your in love with her while your dating me. – [3:37 PM]_

_[3:38 PM] - what’s this got to do with the party?_

_it means, even if you were invited by her, your still able to come and see me. - [3:40 PM]_

_[3:41 PM] - what makes you think I want to see you?_

_because I’m your super hot girlfriend who wants to see you, and  
molly’s just some roadblock keeping us from that. – [3:43 PM]_

_[3:44 PM] - you’re really going to go there right now?_

_[3:45 PM] - I need to go anyway._

_alr, ttyl – [3:45 PM]_

_[3:46 PM] - <3_

_< 3 – [3:46 PM]_

* * *

An _Eagles_ song is blaring through the speakers of Hope’s beat-to-shit Toyota, and Amy can’t quite tell the title, but she figures it’s a radio single from an oldie’s station as her car pulls up beside her.

She’s sat outside of Nick’s aunts house, staring at the pavement, and trying to figure out how to get home. Molly’s gone off onto one of her tangents regarding getting together with Nick while blatantly refusing to let her go home, so Amy’s stuck here. She refused to even go talk to Ryan, instead, coming out here to just wait.

She doesn’t know what she was waiting for exactly, but apparently Hope seemed to show up at the right time.

“Hey,” Hope’s voice comes out of the window, “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be inside.”

“Yeah, well,” Amy frowns, “I don’t want to be inside.”

Hope kills the ignition, leaving her foot on the brake, the last few chords of the song playing before she quickly unlatches her seatbelt and opens her door. She comes to take a seat beside Amy’s frame as she sits on the curb, reaching over to take hold of her left hand as it rests on her knee.

“Come on, tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s not important.”

“It’s bugging you,” Hope confirms, “I know how you are Ames.”

“Won’t you get a parking ticket if you don’t move your car?” Amy ignores the question, looking up to find the dark grey paintjob and the small rust holes in the wheel wells, Hope sighs.

“Alright, I’ll go move it,” She moves to get up, “Since you don’t want to talk about what’s troubling you.”

Amy feels some part of her nerves crack and she suddenly reaches out to take hold of the sleeve of Hope’s jacket as she takes a step off of the curb, tugging on it with what strength she could muster, and finding Hope’s eyes as she darts back around in curiosity, “Don’t go.”

“But—”

“I don’t give a shit about a ticket if you don’t either.”

Hope gives an amused smile and shrugs, “I mean, I don’t.”

“I don’t want you to leave me,” Amy murmurs the words out slowly, looking down to her fingers as she takes a sharp intake of breath, “I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Well,” Hope states slowly, “Where’s Molly?”

“Inside.”

Amy moves slightly as Hope resumes her seat beside Amy, finding some sort of comfort in the exchange of knowing that Hope was right there, and she wasn’t left alone in the middle of the night.

“Why aren’t you in there?” Hope asks, and Amy shrugs slowly.

“Molly’s just being a bitch,” Amy sighs, “I wanted to go home, and she refused to let me leave until it was on _her_ terms.”

“You want me to go in there?” Hope offers, “I can smash her teeth in if you want me to,” Hope cracks her knuckle and Amy laughs softly before shaking her head.

“No,” Amy shrugs, “I just was looking for you, and you weren’t here, so I wanted to leave.”

“We can leave if you want.”

“It’s alright,” Amy sighs, “I just wanted to get out of there really.”

“We can do anything you want Ames, I don’t care.”

Amy lets out a little laugh, “Fuck, you’re so nice.”

Hope shrugs, nudging her shoulder with her own, “It’s nice to have a friend sometimes.”

“I have Molly.”

“A better friend than Molly,” Hope deadpans, “A girlfriend.”

Amy looks down, “I don’t know, it’s just hard right now I guess.”

“What about it?”

“The fact that I-we’re graduating tomorrow, and how were never going to be the same people as we are right now.”

“Hey,” Hope’s voice comes out soft, “Look at me,” Amy raises her eyes to glance at Hope who gives a somber expression, “That doesn’t mean we have to change, you know we can still stay just the same as we are now.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Hope nods, “I love you.”

Amy’s face breaks out into an embarrassed smile and looks down, “Shut up.”

“No, no,” Hope shakes her head, “I’m serious, I’ve loved you since we were kids, and I’m positive that’ll never change if you want that.”

“I could do that,” Amy nods slowly, “I mean Botswana is going to suck, and I’ve got to tell Molly eventually.”

“Well, that’s an issue for a different day,” Hope shrugs.

“I don’t want to keep secrets, just to keep you.”

“Are you actually quoting _Cruel Summer_ right now?” Hope laughs out amusedly, and Amy breaks out in a laugh too, “Oh my God, you are so weird.”

“You love weird,” Amy surmises.

Hope nods, “Yeah kid, I do.”

“So,” Amy looks up to the street, “Can we ditch this place?”

“Totally can,” Hope confirms, “Where you want to go?”

“Anywhere with you and the music.”

Hope pushes herself up, shoes scrapping across the pavement as she dusts off her jeans and holds her hand out to Amy who takes it, “We should do something.”

“Something?” Amy raises a brow.

“Dance with me?”

“Here?” Amy laughs out, clearly astonished at the preposterous question, “Of all places?”

“Totally, we can have our own party,” Hope nods, “and I know the perfect song.”

“I don’t think—”

“Shush,” Hope mutters, “Don’t be so meek for once.”

Hope turns to leave Amy standing there, staring at Hope as she rushes over to her car and turns the key in the ignition, the car roaring to life momentarily before coming to settle into a soft purr. She rummages through her center console for a AUX cord and plugs the end into her headphone jack before pressing play on a song and turning the volume of her radio up so loud her speakers buzz slightly, she moves to swiftly slam the door shut, allowing the music to pour from the rolled down windows as she comes to find Amy again.

“What’s this?”

“ _Amy_.”

“What?” Amy raises a brow as Billie Joe Armstrong’s voice begins to pour from the speaker, and she frowns.

“Green Day.”

“What about them?” Amy frowns, “They suck.”

“Well,” Hope laughs softly, “They’ve got a song named after you.”

“It’s not—”

“Just dance with me,” Hope shakes her head with an amused smile, “I want to remember this.”

Hope takes Amy’s hands and lets them circle around the back of her neck before doing the same with Amy’s lower back, feeling Amy’s face subconsciously tuck itself against her collarbone as they sway slightly in the golden streetlamp. Hope murmuring the words into her ear as she settles into the small rhythm.

“This isn’t really something to dance to.”

“I listened to this all the time when I was thirteen,” Hope states softly, “I always wanted to do this with you for some reason, don’t ruin this for me.”

“Why?” Amy laughs softly in astonishment.

“Because it—” Hope cuts herself off, pausing for a moment, “I wanted to connect with you in ways I didn’t know how to yet.”

“Oh,” Amy sighs, “Well, I’m glad you’re here now.”

“Me too,” Hope whispers softly, licking her lips to hum the last few lines of the third verse, _“_ _May I have this last dance. By chance if we should meet?_

“Hope,” Amy laughs, feeling something coil deep within her gut as Hope doesn’t pause, only taking a sharp intake of breath upon hearing her name.

_“Can you write me a lullaby? So we can sing you to sleep,”_ She continues softly, _“Amy don’t you go, I want you around."_

Hope just suddenly freezes after the last line, her hands quickly wrapping around Amy’s back, burring her face in Amy's hair, and stopping all swaying just pulling her into a hug.

Amy swears she could die at that moment and finally be happy, wrapping her arms tightly around Hope’s frame and hearing the faint sound of her heart through her shirt as she inhales suddenly at the tightness she felt in her throat, almost like she was on the verge of tears herself. Hope’s breathing seemed different, almost like she was struggling to breathe herself as Billie Joe Armstrong’s voice sings the next line, without Hope backing the grim tone, _**“Singin' woah, please don't go. Do you wanna be a friend of mine?”**_

She didn’t want things to ever change, and she knew deep down that Hope didn’t either.

“I love you,” Hope murmurs after a minute, it almost sounds kind of choked, like she was trying not to cry, “And I never want this night to end, but I know it will.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t have more nights like these,” Amy reassures, smoothing the back of Hope’s jacket only to feel Hope sigh deeply, “It’s just for a year.”

“But I’m still going to miss you,” Hope whispers, “I always miss you when you go.”

“Then follow me,” Amy counters abruptly, it’s a spur of the moment comment but it seems to somehow do it’s job because Hope seems to laugh through some form of sadness. Words hadn’t ever been something she was good at, but apparently they seem to work for her when she least expected them to.

“Okay,” Hope nods slowly, “I’ll— Yeah. I’ll do that.”

Time could practically stand still and Amy's sure she wouldn't mind, she feels the best she ever has in her entire life. Here in Hope's company.

In her embrace, around her.

Amy loves this feeling.

The one of being wanted.

She didn’t know what the future would hold for Hope and her, but she swears they could make it if they really wanted this to last, and she knew Hope did, herself too.

They were just two kids who became friends in the strangest possible way, being hidden behind her best friend’s back to just be themselves.

Just to get a chance to be together.

Amy would do everything over again, because it meant that she would still be experiencing the whole rebellious rush that was being with Hope, and sure, they would graduate tomorrow and she would leave later that day, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t live for the night.

_She would go anywhere if it meant that Hope would be there too, and she could only hope that Hope would do the same for her._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> _songs i wrote this to:_
> 
> _"amy" - Green Day <\- Can we just all add this to all of our "Amy and Hope" playlists please? It's so obvious... like... it has Amy literally in the title._
> 
> _"drops of jupiter" - Train (Taylor Swift Live cover) <\- nostalgic song... taylor does it better than anything else._
> 
> __"we should be friends" - Josh Ramsay <\- This is the dude who helped create "Call Me Maybe" by Carley Rae Jepsen... also gave a song to 5sos and is the lead singer of Marianas Trench.__
> 
> __"so it goes..." - Taylor Swift <\- I need to stop sleeping on reputation... some damn good bops on it I stg.__
> 
> __"wurli" - Dominic Fike <\- idk... it's a guilty pleasure one for me rn__
> 
> __"i love you. i love you. it's disgusting" - Broadside <\- I swear this is a great title, but the song in general is really sweet and cheesy.__
> 
> __"these feelings tend to stay the same" - Curtis Waters <\- again, really cool song to make you feel good... or something__
> 
> __"3am" - Halsey <\- So fucking good... I don't care your opinion on Halsey or her music, but PLEASE... PLEASE... give this one a chance... I promise.... you will not regret it.__
> 
> __"so what?" - Jxdn <\- this is something you put on for background music in some kind of 2009 era movie because it's strangely nostalgic sounding and i fucking love that shit.__
> 
> __"505" - Arctic Monkeys <\- heard this in an edit and fell in love with the sound... I need to get into Arctic Monkeys more soon, I've always heard great things about them.__
> 
> __(this is only a skim on the surface for my music library actually... hmu and tell me what you thought of this... i know it's been a while.)__
> 
> __(go easy on the part where Hope smokes weed... I've never done that in my life so I've only gone from basic understandings of what my friends have told me... or something like that... yep.)__
> 
> ____


End file.
